Chapter 6: Port Ambush
Eastside, New York Harbour.
Normally, the docks weren't abandoned even at night, at least not completely. But tonight was different.
Every patrol had been paid off, every camera mysteriously offline.
The Vipers, a mid-tier but growing criminal syndicate, had an important DP deal scheduled, and they made sure no one would interfere.
"Boss, why here? Feels too exposed," one of the underlings muttered, glancing around the shipping containers.
Across from him, a mountain of a man in a black suit took a long drag from his cigar. The Vipers' leader, Billy, sat confidently at a folding table flanked by crates and chairs.
"Use your damn head," Billy grunted. "This place is a maze. If anything goes wrong, we vanish in seconds."
He exhaled a cloud of smoke.
"No cops, no cameras, no eyes. That's what we paid for."
15 minutes later.
The screech of tires echoed through the dock.
Eight black Ford Explorers rolled in, headlights blinding.
"Well, well, Billy!" A slick voice rang out. A sharply dressed man exited the lead vehicle, flanked by armed muscle. "A beautiful night for business, no?"
Billy didn't smile. He simply nodded. The two men sat across from each other at the table.
Their crews—50 strong on each side—fanned out like clockwork, guards positioning themselves around the perimeter.
The deal was about to go down.
Outside the perimeter.
A sleek black modified Lexus idled in the shadows. Inside, Valen adjusted his gear.
"Sir, I have visual on the targets. Beginning operation now," he said calmly into the comm, then switched the channel to receive-only.
He stepped out into the night.
In the manor, Kyle leaned back in his chair, watching the live feed from Valen's shoulder cam.
"Damn… that's more people than I expected," he muttered. "Looks like we stumbled onto a whale, not a minnow."
Moonlight vanished behind clouds. The harbour turned to ink.
"Seven guards at the front… three hidden snipers. Start from the top."
Valen raised his silenced rifle, took aim, and fired.
The sniper on the rooftop slumped forward, dead before he hit the steel.
Valen slipped into the shadows, swapping weapons. Every gun is now fitted with suppressors.
"Next… the three hidden ones."
With a tap on his visor, the lenses shifted from blue to red.
Three humanoid figures glowed white-hot on the display. Infrared locked in.
He holstered the rifle and drew two pistols.
A quiet roll behind a shipping container—
pop. Pop. Pop.
Three guards collapsed, none of them getting a word out.
Just 60 meters away, six gang members were leaning against a crate, passing around cigarettes and laughing.
Valen slid his knives free, body dissolving into shadow.
Like a predator loosed from its cage, he moved with terrifying speed—
Five strides. Six bodies.
The first man didn't even see the knife before it pierced his throat.
Blood sprayed—but Valen had already shifted aside, second target down before the first body hit the ground.
The rest reacted too late.
One reached for his weapon—Valen's boot slammed into his ribs, sending him crashing into the crate.
With a quick flick, he chambered a round in his pistol using the heel of his boot, then—
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Three flashes. Six men down.
Time elapsed: 15 seconds.
In the manor, Kyle frowned.
"Valen… any trained assassin could've pulled that off. I'm not here for a warm-up. Show me what that crystal gave you."
"As you wish… sir."
Valen's voice dropped lower.
He removed the silencers, turned toward the next group—
and pulled the trigger.
CRACK!
The unsuppressed shot rang out across the docks.
"Something's wrong!"
Back at the deal table, both Billy and the suited buyer froze.
They exchanged a look, then both grabbed their briefcases.
"Daler! We're leaving. Now!" Billy barked. "Something's off."
They didn't have time to argue or point fingers. Their instincts screamed ambush.
Meanwhile, on the buyer's side, trouble struck harder—
Two grenades rolled out from the shadows—straight into the middle of their group.
Click… click…
BOOM.
(End of Chapter 6)
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