Chapter 4 - Nine O’Clock at Calumet
The abandoned freight terminal near Calumet Harbor had been empty for seven years.
At least according to city records.
At 8:58 p.m., Cormack counted four vehicles, six exterior cameras, and two armed men pretending to smoke beside the western entrance.
Fitz sat behind the wheel.
“Subtle.”
Cormack adjusted his cuff.
“They want us to see them.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning the real entrance is somewhere else.”
They parked half a mile away.
Cormack had brought only four men.
Marsh would expect more.
Cormack preferred disappointing expectations.
The storm had weakened, leaving wet snow across the industrial district.
They approached from the water side.
At 9:12, one of Fitz’s men found a service tunnel.
At 9:19, they were inside.
Cormack moved through darkness without speaking.
He had learned violence young.
Not because he enjoyed it.
Because his father had believed fear was a form of inheritance.
Cormack had spent most of his adult life proving inheritance could be refused.
Tonight, every old instinct returned.
He hated how natural it felt.
Above them, voices echoed through metal.
Fitz touched his earpiece.
“Two ahead.”
Cormack nodded.
They continued.
In the locked room upstairs, Sloan heard shouting.
Toby was asleep against the wall.
His breathing had steadied after the medication.
Sloan sat beside him with one hand wrapped around the stolen key.
Marsh had returned thirty minutes earlier.
He had given her one final chance.
Where were the copies?
She had lied.
He knew.
He promised Toby’s medical care would become “complicated.”
Sloan had looked him in the eye.
“If he dies, you lose your leverage.”
Marsh smiled.
“That sounded almost cruel.”
“It was meant to.”
He had left.
Now footsteps pounded somewhere beyond the corridor.
A man shouted.
Then something heavy hit the wall.
Toby woke.
“Slo?”
“Stay behind me.”
“With what weapon?”
She raised the small locker key.
Toby blinked.
“Terrifying.”
“Quiet.”
The lock turned.
Sloan grabbed the metal water bottle.
The door opened.
She swung.
Cormack caught her wrist.
For one absurd second, neither moved.
Sloan stared at him.
He stared back.
Snow melted across the shoulders of his black coat.
There was blood on his collar.
Not much.
Probably not his.
“You,” Sloan whispered.
Cormack released her wrist.
“You asked.”
She could not speak.
Toby looked between them.
“Who is Batman?”
Cormack glanced at him.
“Toby?”
The boy frowned.
“How do you know my name?”
“Long story.”
Sloan stepped closer.
“Can you get him out?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Cormack looked at Fitz.
Fitz nodded toward the corridor.
“North exit. Vehicle waiting.”
Sloan helped Toby stand.
An alarm suddenly sounded.
Red lights flashed.
Fitz swore.
“They know.”
Cormack took Sloan’s arm.
“Move.”
This time, she let him.
They reached the stairwell.
A door slammed somewhere below.
Gunfire cracked across the concrete.
Sloan flinched.
Cormack pulled her behind him.
“Stay close.”
Toby whispered, “That was a gun.”
“Brilliant,” Sloan said breathlessly.
“I’m processing.”
Cormack almost smiled.
Almost.
They descended.
At the second landing, Royce Nadau appeared.
Cormack raised his weapon.
Royce lifted both hands.
Sloan stepped forward.
“Wait.”
Cormack did not lower the gun.
“He left the locker note.”
Royce looked at her.
“Your brother’s file was more important.”
“Why help us?”
Royce glanced down the staircase.
“Because Gideon killed my wife.”
Silence.
Even the alarm seemed distant.
Royce continued quickly.
“She worked in compliance at Mercy Northside. She discovered falsified transfers. Six months later, she died in a hit-and-run.”
Toby whispered, “Oh.”
Royce met Cormack’s eyes.
“I’ve been waiting three years.”
“For what?”
“Someone powerful enough to survive knowing.”
Cormack lowered the weapon slightly.
“Congratulations.”
A crash sounded above.
Royce turned.
“You have maybe two minutes.”
“Come with us,” Sloan said.
He shook his head.
“I need to get Marsh’s server.”
“You’ll die.”
“Not tonight.”
“How do you know?”
Royce looked at her.
“I don’t.”
Then he disappeared upstairs.
Cormack grabbed Sloan’s hand.
“Move.”
They reached the service tunnel as men poured into the lower level.
Fitz’s team returned fire behind them.
Sloan stumbled.
Cormack caught her.
Toby was slowing.
Cormack took one look at him, holstered his weapon, and lifted the boy into his arms.
Toby protested weakly.
“I can walk.”
“No.”
“I’m sixteen.”
“Still no.”
Sloan stared at Cormack carrying her brother through the freezing tunnel.
Something inside her shifted.
Not trust.
Not yet.
But the beginning of a question.
They emerged beside the harbor.
A black SUV waited.
Fitz opened the rear door.
Cormack placed Toby inside.
Sloan climbed after him.
Cormack started to follow.
An explosion ripped through the building behind them.
Fire flashed against the night.
Sloan turned.
“Royce.”
Cormack stared at the roof.
No one emerged.
Fitz shouted, “We have to go.”
Cormack got inside.
The vehicle accelerated away.
For several minutes, Sloan said nothing.
She held Toby’s hand.
Cormack sat opposite.
Their eyes met.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Cormack looked at the bruise around her ankle where the chain had been.
His expression changed.
“Don’t thank me yet.”
“Why?”
“Because this isn’t over.”
Toby closed his eyes.
Sloan looked out at the snowy harbor.
“I know.”
Cormack watched her.
“What did Marsh want?”
“The files.”
“Only the files?”
Sloan hesitated.
“No.”
Cormack waited.
She looked at him.
“He wants my notary seal.”
Cormack frowned.
“Why?”
“Because there’s one more document.”
“What document?”
Sloan swallowed.
“The transfer agreement for Riverline.”
Cormack’s face became unreadable.
Sloan continued.
“Your signature is already on it.”
“I never signed a transfer.”
“I know.”
The SUV seemed to become completely silent.
Sloan whispered:
“But someone made it look like you did.”
Cormack leaned forward.
“Transfer to whom?”
May you like
She held his gaze.
“Gideon Marsh.”
