The SUV rolled to a halt behind a row of rusted shipping containers, the dark waters of the Hudson crashing against the timber pilings of Pier 42. Roman stepped out into the rain, pulling a heavy black overcoat over his shoulders.
Behind him, four more blacked-out vehicles pulled up in dead silence. Pedro, Andie, Anthony, and twenty of Roman’s top enforcers spilled out, weapons drawn, tactical gear secured.
Rizz jogged up to Roman, holding a tablet displaying a live thermal feed of the pier. "Boss, Dante’s got at least fifteen guys guarding a private yacht docked at the far end. They’re transferring steel lockboxes from two armored vans right now. Dante’s inside the main cabin."
"Fifteen?" Andie smirked, racking her tactical rifle. "Hardly a challenge."
Roman didn't smile. His dark eye
