The Brooklyn dock was a graveyard of rusted ships and cranes. Marcus parked the Impala behind a stack of shipping containers, his tie camera still rolling. Claire sat beside him, her dad's notebook open to a page marked "Chen's Smuggling Routes." Raymond and Sophia stood outside, smoking cigarettes.
"It's container 7B," Raymond said, flicking his cigarette into the water. "Chen's men will be here at 10. They're moving the coke to a boat—bound for Europe."
Sophia pulled her switchblade from her pocket. "I'll watch the perimeter. If I see anyone, I'll whistle."
Marcus nodded, grabbing the fake chips from the glove compartment. "Claire and I will check the container. Raymond—you stay with Sophia. Too risky for you to go in."
Raymond protested, but Marcus cut him off. "You're too recognizable. Chen's men will spot you instantly."
They slipped through the dock's gate—Sophia had picked the lock—and walked toward container 7B. The night air was cold, the sound of waves crashing against the shore.
Claire pulled out her phone, using the flashlight to check the container's lock. "It's padlocked. But my dad's notes say Chen uses a combination lock—1234. He's lazy."
Marcus typed the code. The lock clicked open.
They pulled the container door open, and the smell of cocaine hit them—sharp, chemical. Inside, stacks of poker chips filled the space, each one weighted with white powder.
"Take photos," Marcus said. "Miller needs proof."
Claire nodded, snapping pictures. Marcus placed the fake chips—with GPS trackers—on top of the stacks. "Miller's team will follow the signal when they move it."
Then a voice said, "Nice work. You just made my job easier."
Cole stood in the doorway, a gun in his hand. His face was bruised from the Plaza, his jacket stained with blood.
Marcus stepped in front of Claire. "What do you want, Cole?"
Cole laughed. "Chen's gonna kill me. I let you escape. He found out. So I'm making a deal. I give you the coke, you let me go. The FBI will give me witness protection."
Claire stepped forward. "You're lying. You've been working with Chen this whole time. You helped him kill my dad."
Cole's face softened. "I had no choice. My sister—Chen has her. He said if I didn't help, he'd kill her. I'm not a monster, Claire. I just wanted to save her."
Marcus's jaw tightened. He thought of his mom, of how far he'd go to save her. "Where's your sister?"
"At Chen's safe house. In Queens. If I give you the coke, you have to promise to get her out."
Claire looked at Marcus. He nodded. "We promise. But you have to help us. Tell us Chen's next move."
Cole sighed, lowering his gun. "He's meeting the boat at 11. A guy named Vlad. Russian. He's bringing the money."
Marcus pulled out his phone, texting Miller: "Cole's cooperating. Safe house in Queens. Boat at 11."
Miller replied: "FBI en route. Keep Cole with you."
They walked out of the container, Cole behind them. Sophia and Raymond were waiting, their faces tense.
"Who's he?" Sophia asked, pointing at Cole.
"Cooperating witness," Marcus said. "He's helping us find Chen's safe house."
Raymond's jaw tightened. "I don't trust him. Chen's men are snakes. They lie."
Cole's face paled. "I'm not lying. I just want my sister back."
Marcus clapped him on the shoulder. "We'll get her back. I promise."
As they walked to the car, Marcus looked at the container. Miller's team would be here soon. The coke would be seized. Chen's plan would fail.
But as they drove to Queens, Marcus's phone buzzed. An anonymous text: "Cole's lying. Safe house is a trap."
He showed it to Claire. Her face paled. "Who sent it?"
Marcus shook his head. "I don't know. But we need to be careful."
Cole looked at them, his eyes wide. "It's not a trap. I swear. My sister's there."
Marcus nodded, but his hand tightened around the fake chip in his pocket.
Queens was ahead. The safe house was waiting.
And somewhere, someone was watching.
The trap was set.