Chapter 17 - A Dangerous Game
The Chicago docks at Pier 44 were a graveyard of rusted shipping containers and massive steel cranes.
The freezing wind whipped off Lake Michigan, cutting through Dorian’s long charcoal overcoat as he stepped out of his armored SUV.
He did not bring an army.
He brought only Marcus and Titan.
Elias Thorne was standing under a single, flickering halogen streetlight at the end of the pier.
He was surrounded by ten heavily armed mercenaries holding assault rifles.
Thorne was a massive, scarred man who looked more like a butcher than a criminal mastermind.
When he saw Dorian emerge from the shadows instead of the terrified assistant, Thorne laughed.
The sound was rough and grating, echoing over the crashing waves.
"I knew that stupid girl would fail," Thorne sneered, dropping his cigarette and crushing it beneath his boot.
"But I didn't think the great Dorian Vance would be foolish enough to walk into a kill zone."
Dorian stopped twenty feet away, Titan sitting perfectly still at his left side, a low growl rumbling in the dog’s chest.
"You sent assassins into my home, Elias," Dorian said, his voice carrying effortlessly over the wind.
"You targeted my fiancée."
"There is no corner of this earth where you can hide from what happens next."
Thorne snapped his fingers, and the ten mercenaries raised their weapons, aiming directly at Dorian's chest.
"You have gone soft, Dorian!" Thorne yelled.
"You traded your crown for a boardroom and a pretty widow."
"You don't own this city anymore."
"I do."
Dorian did not flinch at the sight of the guns.
He simply checked his watch.
"You always were impatient, Elias," Dorian said calmly.
"Did you really think I came here to fight you?"
Thorne frowned, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his scarred face.
"I came here to keep you occupied," Dorian finished.
Suddenly, the deafening roar of helicopter blades shattered the night air.
Three black tactical helicopters descended from the low-hanging clouds, their high-powered spotlights completely blinding Thorne’s men.
Before the mercenaries could even fire a shot, the piercing sound of police sirens filled the docks.
Dozens of armored SWAT vehicles barricaded the exit to the pier, heavily armed federal agents pouring out with shields raised.
Thorne’s eyes went wide with sheer panic.
"You called the Feds?" Thorne screamed, looking at Dorian as if he had lost his mind.
"You broke the code!"
"We don't involve the law!"
Dorian smiled, a cold, ruthless expression that chilled Thorne to the bone.
"I am a legitimate businessman, Elias," Dorian mocked softly over the chaos.
"I pay my taxes."
"And I report heavily armed terrorists to the FBI."
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Thorne realized he had been completely outplayed.
With a roar of absolute rage, Thorne drew a hidden handgun from his jacket and aimed directly at Dorian's head.
