"The yellow room," Gideon repeated, his voice dropping into a register so dangerously quiet that the heavy fireplace logs seemed to crackle with sudden hesitation

Midnight at Pier 41 was a graveyard of rusted steel containers, rotting wooden docks, and crashing black waves from Lake Michigan.

The wind howled off the water, carrying the sharp, metallic tang of salt and diesel fuel. Under the flickering amber glow of a broken overhead floodlight, Viktor Moretti stood waiting beside a black SUV, flanked by six heavily armed mercenaries wearing tactical vests and carrying assault rifles.

In the back seat of the SUV, bound and gagged with her hands tied behind her back, sat Lydia.

She looked up as the crunch of gravel signaled the arrival of a single black sedan.

The car stopped twenty yards away. The headlights flickered off, plunging the area back into shadow. The driver's side door opened, and Nolan stepped out, walking forward with a stiff, unnatural gait, holding a secure flash drive in his shaking hand.

"I'm here, Viktor!" Nolan called out, raising his hands to show he was unarmed. "I have the flash drive with the master vault codes. Now where's my safe passage?"

Viktor Moretti stepped forward, a cruel smirk twisting his scarred face. He was an older man, built like a brick wall, with eyes that had seen a hundred turf wars and ended twice as many lives.

"You always were an ambitious little rat, Nolan," Viktor chuckled, walking closer to him. "Betraying your own blood just to sit in Gideon's chair. Where is the flash drive?"

Nolan held it out, his fingers trembling so badly he could barely keep his grip on the small piece of plastic. "Take it. Just let the girl go."

Viktor reached out and snatched the flash drive from Nolan's hand. He tossed it to one of his mercenaries behind him. "Check it."

Before the mercenary could plug the drive into a field terminal, a sudden, deafening sound shattered the night.

CRACK.

A single sniper shot echoed across the harbor.

The mercenary holding the flash drive dropped instantly, a clean red hole piercing his tactical helmet as he collapsed onto the gravel.

"Amus! Ambush!" Viktor screamed, drawing his sidearm and spinning around to shove Nolan to the ground. "Kill him! Kill everyone!"

Chaos erupted across Pier 41.

From behind the towering stacks of shipping containers, muzzle flashes erupted in rapid succession. Pierce and a dozen elite Ironwood enforcers swarmed out from the shadows, their assault rifles cutting through Viktor’s men before they could even raise their weapons.

Viktor grabbed Lydia by the hair, yanking her out of the back seat of the SUV and pressing the barrel of his pistol hard against her temple.

"Drop your weapons!" Viktor roared over the gunfire, spitting blood onto the concrete as he used Lydia as a human shield. "Drop your weapons, or her brains decorate this dock!"

The gunfire instantly stopped.

The silence that followed was suffocating, broken only by the rhythmic crashing of the waves against the concrete pylons.

From the top of a stacked shipping container overlooking the pier, a single figure stepped into the amber light.

Gideon Mercer.

He wasn't wearing a tactical vest or holding a rifle. He wore his signature black tailored coat, his hands resting calmly in his pockets as he looked down at Viktor Moretti with eyes as cold and empty as the deep river.

"Let her go, Viktor," Gideon’s voice echoed across the pier, steady and lethal.

"Gideon!" Viktor sneered, pressing the gun harder against Lydia’s temple until she winced in pain. "You always were arrogant, thinking you owned this city. Drop your gun, or I blow your wife's head off right now!"

Gideon didn't flinch. He slowly pulled his right hand out of his pocket—not holding a gun, but holding a small, silver detonator.

"Look around you, Viktor," Gideon said calmly.

Viktor frowned, glancing around the pier.

Every single one of his men was lying motionless on the ground. Pierce and four elite snipers had laser sights locked directly onto Viktor’s chest, head, and arms.

"You walked into a tomb," Gideon whispered, stepping off the edge of the container and dropping lightly onto the gravel below, walking slowly toward them. "You thought you could touch my family and walk away?"

"I have the trigger!" Viktor yelled, panicking as he realized his men were gone. "One twitch of my finger, and she dies!"

"You won't twitch," a cold voice whispered right behind Viktor's ear.

Viktor froze.

Nolan—who had been lying on the ground playing dead—had suddenly lunged upward, slamming a heavy steel pipe across Viktor’s wrist with brutal force.

CRACK.

Viktor screamed in agony as bones shattered in his hand, the pistol flying from his grip and clattering across the concrete.

Before Viktor could recover, Gideon closed the distance in a blur of motion. He grabbed Viktor by the throat, hoisting the massive man off the ground with terrifying strength, and slammed him against the side of the SUV with enough force to dent the metal.

"This is for my wife," Gideon whispered, his fist driving straight into Viktor’s ribs with the force of a battering ram.