Chapter 4
The rain started falling just as Daniel’s truck pulled up to the rusted chain-link fence of Pier 44. The shipyard was a graveyard of shipping containers, slick and dangerous in the downpour.
Rachel was on the phone, her voice crackling through the Bluetooth speaker. "Daniel, the FBI is ten minutes out. I gave them everything—the shell accounts, Apex Logistics, Hayes. Do not go in there alone. Please."
"If I wait ten minutes, Hayes is on a boat in international waters, and my squadmates died for nothing," Daniel said. He looked at the passenger seat. Zara was sitting up, watching the rain hit the windshield, her eyes locked on the heavily guarded yacht docked at the end of the pier.
"Daniel—"
"I’ll see you soon, Rachel." He hung up.
He stepped out into the rain. He didn't have backup. He didn't have a squad. But as he looked down at the Malinois pressing her warm flank against his leg, he realized he wasn't alone.
"Let’s finish the mission, girl."
They moved through the labyrinth of shipping containers like ghosts. Two armed Apex contractors were patrolling the perimeter of the yacht. Daniel took the first one down from behind, a swift chokehold that dragged the man silently into the shadows of a crate.
The second guard turned, raising his radio, opening his mouth to yell.
Zara took him off his feet, hitting him so hard the radio flew into the dark water of the harbor. Daniel secured the man with zip-ties he’d brought from the truck.
They boarded the yacht. The interior was lavish, a stark contrast to the blood and dirt of Kandahar. In the main cabin, Colonel Hayes was frantically shoving stacks of bound documents and hard drives into a waterproof briefcase. He wore a crisp civilian suit, looking nothing like the soldier Daniel had respected.
"Leaving so soon, Colonel?"
Hayes froze. He slowly turned around. When he saw Daniel, the color drained from his face. But when his eyes shifted downward and landed on Zara, his expression turned to pure, unadulterated terror.
"Cole," Hayes stammered, putting his hands up slowly. "Listen to me. You don't understand the complexities of what happened over there."
"I understand that you sold out your own men for gold," Daniel said, keeping his weapon trained on Hayes’s chest. "I understand that you left this dog to die in the desert to cover your tracks."
"I can pay you," Hayes pleaded, his eyes darting toward a desk drawer. "Millions, Cole. More money than you’ll ever—"
Hayes suddenly lunged for the drawer, pulling out a hidden revolver.
"Zara!"
The dog leaped across the mahogany table in a blur of tan and black. She hit Hayes squarely in the chest just as the gun went off. The shot went wide, shattering a decorative mirror. Hayes screamed as Zara pinned him to the floor, her teeth bared inches from his face, a low, guttural growl vibrating through the room.
Daniel walked over and kicked the revolver away. He looked down at the man who had haunted his nightmares for years.
"You're a disgrace to the uniform," Daniel said softly. "Zara, stand down."
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The dog stepped back but didn't take her eyes off Hayes.
Outside, the wail of sirens cut through the sound of the rain. Red and blue lights flooded the pier, casting long, dramatic shadows through the windows of the yacht. The FBI had arrived.
