Chapter 57 - Bloodline Counter-Offensive
The rotor wash tore at our clothes as tactical federal units fast-roped onto the pier, their carbines trained directly on the remaining Sterling contractors, who promptly dropped their weapons and raised their hands. Alistair Croft went limp in David’s grip, his face draining of all color as Miller himself marched onto the concrete, holding a signed federal court order stamped with an emergency seal.
"It seems your 1894 treaty had an expiration date after all, Croft," Miller said coldly, clapping heavy steel cuffs around the solicitor’s wrists. "Judge Harrison reviewed the Vance family’s original charter notes thirty minutes ago. Silas Vance paid off the Edinburgh bonds in full in 1912, and the Sterling estate never filed the satisfaction of mortgage because they were using the open ledger to avoid British tax laws. You're looking at federal fraud, maritime piracy, and treason."
David released Croft, turning to pull me into a fierce embrace. "You got it?"
"Everything," I said, holding up the black drive. "Every single manifest, every offshore bank account tied to the biological transit, and Lord William's direct digital signatures."
We stood on the pier as Miller’s men secured the containers, finally believing the nightmare that began with Eleanor’s sinister wedding scheme had collapsed for good. But as Alistair was escorted toward the armored federal transport, he turned back to look at us. Despite his arrest, a grotesque, unsettling grin spread across his bruised lips.
"You think this is a victory, don't you?" Alistair whispered, his voice dripping with venomous mockery. "You think Lord William sent me here to actually take the port?"
David froze. "What are you talking about?"
"The containers are empty, David," Alistair laughed softly. "They're decoys. Pressurized air and ballast water. Lord William never cared about Pier Four."
A cold terror washed through my stomach, far colder than the river mist. "Then why bring the ships here?"
May you like
"To pull every single federal agent, every tactical officer, and every Vance security guard down to the river," Alistair hissed. "While you were defending your precious rusted cranes... Lord William was landing his private jet at Nashville International. He didn't come for your docks, Miss Vance. He came for your mother."
***
