Chapter 5 - Saint AgnesSaint Agnes had not been a church in sixteen years.
The fire had gutted the sanctuary, collapsed half the roof, and left the stone exterior blackened like the ribs of something dead. Developers had attempted to purchase the property several times, but ownership remained trapped behind a series of shell corporations no city attorney had managed to untangle.
Harper now understood why.
At 2:17 a.m., Adrian stood across the street from the ruins wearing a bulletproof vest beneath a black wool coat.
Harper sat inside the armored SUV half a block away.
She was furious about it.
Adrian had won the argument only because he had taken the keys out of every other vehicle and ordered Leo to physically prevent her from following if necessary.
Harper had promised Leo she would break his nose.
Leo had replied that he liked his nose but valued his life more.
Now he sat beside her, watching Adrian cross the empty street.
“You know he’s not going alone,” Harper said.
Leo did not look at her.
“He is technically alone.”
“There are twelve snipers around this block.”
“Thirteen.”
She turned.
“Thirteen?”
“I put one on the water tower.”
“Good.”
Leo gave her a sideways glance.
“You were about to criticize the plan.”
“I was about to criticize the lying.”
“Different department.”
Harper hated that she almost smiled.
Then Adrian disappeared through the church doors.
Her humor vanished.
Inside Saint Agnes, the air smelled like mold, wet stone, and smoke that had somehow survived sixteen winters.
Adrian moved slowly through the ruined nave.
Moonlight entered through holes in the roof.
Rows of broken pews remained exactly where they had fallen during the fire.
At the altar stood a single wooden table.
Claire Bennett sat beside it.
Alive.
Her wrists were not tied.
A blanket had been placed around her shoulders.
She looked furious rather than frightened.
“Adrian.”
He stopped.
“Claire.”
“You have a very strange family.”
Despite everything, he almost smiled.
Then a man stepped from behind the altar.
Vincent Costello.
Older.
Thinner.
But unmistakable.
For sixteen years Adrian had remembered his father as a corpse he had never seen.
Now Vincent walked toward him with the measured confidence of a king returning to a throne.
“My son.”
Adrian’s hands curled into fists.
“Don’t call me that.”
Vincent smiled faintly.
“You still stand with your left shoulder forward when you’re angry.”
“You kidnapped my mother-in-law.”
“I invited her.”
Claire rolled her eyes.
“Your invitation included two unconscious security guards.”
“Necessary theater.”
Adrian’s voice turned deadly.
“Touch her again and I will bury you underneath this church.”
Vincent’s smile widened.
“There you are.”
Adrian stopped three yards away.
“The boy I raised.”
“No. The boy you abandoned.”
For the first time, something flickered behind Vincent’s eyes.
“Is that what you think happened?”
“You died.”
“I disappeared.”
“Same result.”
Vincent looked toward Claire.
“You see? He always did prefer simple definitions.”
Claire said, “I’m on his side.”
Adrian almost laughed.
Vincent moved toward the altar.
“You can take Mrs. Bennett home.”
Adrian did not move.
“What do you want?”
“To save you.”
“That usually doesn’t involve kidnapping relatives.”
“Your wife is clever.”
“Do not talk about Harper.”
Vincent’s gaze sharpened.
“You married exactly the kind of woman I hoped you would.”
Adrian crossed the distance between them so quickly that Vincent barely had time to react.
He slammed his father against a stone pillar.
From hidden balconies, weapons shifted.
Adrian heard them.
Vincent did not resist.
“Tell your men to lower their guns.”
“They aren’t mine.”
Adrian froze.
Then a shot cracked through the church.
Stone exploded beside his head.
Claire screamed.
Adrian dropped and pulled Vincent down with him as gunfire tore through the altar.
Outside, Harper heard the first shot.
She was out of the SUV before Leo could stop her.
“Harper!”
She ran across the street.
Leo cursed and followed.
The church erupted with automatic fire.
Not Costello weapons.
Leo spoke into his radio.
“Positions! Unknown shooters inside!”
Harper reached the side entrance and found it chained.
She pulled the compact pistol from beneath her coat.
Leo caught up.
“You’re pregnant.”
“Say it one more time and I’ll shoot you myself.”
He kicked the door near the lock.
It held.
Harper looked up.
A stained-glass window had already been broken.
“Boost me.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Leo.”
“No.”
Another burst of gunfire thundered inside.
Leo muttered a prayer and laced his hands together.
Harper stepped into them.
He lifted her.
She climbed through the shattered frame and dropped into darkness.
Her shoes hit stone.
Pain jolted through her ankles.
Then she heard Adrian shout.
“Claire!”
Harper ran.
In the nave, Vincent had dragged Claire behind the ruined altar while Adrian fired toward the choir loft.
Two masked shooters moved along the upper balcony.
Harper dropped behind a column.
One gunman saw her.
His weapon swung.
She fired first.
The bullet struck the railing beside him, forcing him back.
Adrian looked toward the sound.
His expression transformed from concentration into absolute fury.
“Harper!”
“Happy to see you too!”
Leo burst through another entrance with three Costello men.
The balance shifted.
The shooters began retreating.
One dropped through an emergency exit.
Another disappeared behind the choir loft.
Within two minutes the gunfire stopped.
Adrian marched toward Harper.
She knew that walk.
It was the walk of a husband preparing to commit murder.
“What part of stay in the vehicle was confusing?”
“The part where you were being shot at.”
“I told you—”
“Later.”
She pushed past him toward Claire.
“Mom.”
Claire stood and wrapped both arms around her.
“I’m fine.”
Harper held her tightly.
Only after confirming that her mother was uninjured did she turn toward Vincent.
He was staring at her.
Harper stared back.
So this was Adrian’s father.
She had expected someone larger.
More monstrous.
Instead, Vincent looked almost scholarly.
Silver hair.
Dark coat.
An old scar near his temple.
But his eyes were Adrian’s.
That disturbed her most.
“You kidnapped my mother.”
Vincent inclined his head.
“Harper.”
“You know my name.”
“I know almost everything about you.”
“Then you know I don’t like being manipulated.”
A slight smile.
“Yes. That part is obvious.”
Adrian stepped between them.
“Enough.”
Vincent looked at his son.
“The men who attacked us tonight belong to neither Costello nor Moretti.”
“Who?”
“The Black Harbor Syndicate.”
Leo swore quietly.
Harper had heard the name only once.
A network, not a family.
Smugglers.
Private military contractors.
Former intelligence assets.
People who moved weapons, data, people, and money through ports from Rotterdam to Miami.
Adrian’s organization was powerful in New York.
Black Harbor operated internationally.
“What do they want?” Harper asked.
Vincent looked toward the burned altar.
“What everyone eventually wants.”
“Money?”
“Control.”
“Of what?”
“Port Newark.”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
“Why?”
“Because beneath your legitimate shipping contracts is something more valuable than narcotics.”
Vincent walked to an old stone baptismal font.
He reached beneath its cracked rim and pressed something.
A mechanism clicked.
Part of the floor shifted.
Harper stared.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Stone steps led downward.
Vincent picked up a flashlight.
“Come.”
Adrian did not move.
“My wife and Claire leave.”
Harper folded her arms.
“No.”
“Harper.”
“If there is a secret basement beneath a burned mafia church and you think I’m leaving before seeing it, you have misunderstood every day of our marriage.”
Claire whispered, “I like her.”
Vincent smiled.
“So do I.”
Adrian looked as though he regretted every decision that had led him here.
Five minutes later, they were underground.
The chamber had survived the fire.
Metal shelves lined the walls.
Most were empty.
One old safe stood open.
Vincent approached it.
“This is where I kept copies of everything.”
“Kept?” Adrian asked.
“Someone found the vault six months ago.”
Vincent pointed to the empty shelves.
“They took the ledgers.”
“Black Harbor?”
“Yes.”
Harper understood.
“The containers.”
Vincent nodded.
“Tests.”
“They weren’t stealing cargo for profit,” she said. “They were proving they could manipulate the port.”
“Exactly.”
Adrian stared at his father.
“And you’ve known for six months?”
“I’ve been trying to identify the person inside your organization helping them.”
“Why not contact me?”
Vincent laughed softly.
“Would you have listened?”
Adrian’s face answered for him.
Vincent walked to the table in the center of the chamber.
He unfolded a map.
Red circles marked warehouses, terminals, trucking yards, customs stations.
All connected to Costello holdings.
“Black Harbor does not want to compete with you,” Vincent said.
“They want to use you.”
“For what?”
“An entry point.”
“Into New York?”
“Into the United States.”
Harper studied the map.
One location had been circled three times.
A Costello-owned container terminal.
“What’s special about Pier 17?”
Vincent looked at her.
“In six weeks, it receives a classified government shipment.”
Adrian’s expression changed.
“What kind?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then how do you know about it?”
Vincent hesitated.
That hesitation told Harper more than his answer.
“You’re working with someone.”
Vincent smiled.
“You are good.”
“Who?”
“An old friend.”
“Government?”
“No.”
“Intelligence?”
He said nothing.
Adrian stepped closer.
“If Black Harbor wants the shipment, let federal security handle it.”
Vincent shook his head.
“They can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because Black Harbor already has people inside the government.”
Silence.
Harper felt the child inside her move.
It was faint.
Almost nothing.
Still, her hand went instinctively to her stomach.
Vincent noticed.
His face changed.
For the first time, the old king looked human.
“You really are carrying my grandchild.”
Adrian moved between them again.
“Don’t.”
Vincent’s expression hardened.
“I did not threaten her child.”
“The message did.”
“I did not send that message.”
Harper went still.
“What?”
Vincent looked at Adrian.
“The chess pieces are mine.”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
“The calls are not.”
“Then who sent them?”
“I don’t know.”
The room chilled.
Vincent continued.
“I took Claire because I needed you here, and I knew you would ignore anything less dramatic.”
Claire muttered, “I’m still angry about that.”
“But I never threatened Harper’s child.”
Adrian looked toward Leo.
Leo was already checking his phone.
Harper felt the pieces rearranging in her mind.
Someone had copied Vincent’s symbols.
Someone had known he was alive.
Someone wanted Adrian to believe the threat came from his father.
A deception inside a deception.
Then Leo’s phone rang.
He answered.
His face changed instantly.
“Say again.”
Everyone watched him.
Leo lowered the phone.
“We have a problem.”
Adrian stepped forward.
“What?”
“Pier 17.”
“What about it?”
May you like
Leo swallowed.
“It just exploded.”
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