Chapter 11 - TRAPPED IN THE MAZE.txt
"Marcus Vance!" Detective Miller’s voice boomed through the fog, echoing off the steel walls of the shipping containers. "Police! Put your hands up and step out where we can see you!"
Silence hung in the cold air for a heavy, agonizing second.
Then, a sharp BANG shattered the stillness.
A muzzle flash burst from the darkness near the red container. A high-caliber bullet richocheted wildly off the metal frame inches from Miller’s head, spraying sparks into the fog.
"Cover!" Miller yelled, diving behind a blue container while drawing his sidearm.
The tactical officers immediately opened fire, light flashing in the mist as suppressed gunshots popped like firecrackers.
Graham crouched low behind a massive tire of a port loading vehicle, holding Kane’s leather leash tightly with both hands. The dog didn't panic or whine. He stayed pressed low to the asphalt, his eyes locked onto the dark corridor where the shooter was hidden.
Footsteps clattered wildly against the metal walkways high above them.
"He’s heading for the gantry crane stairs!" an officer shouted through his radio. "He’s trying to reach the upper catwalk!"
"He’s trapped up there!" Miller yelled back. "Contain the base!"
Graham looked up into the thick fog. Through the swirling mist, he caught a quick glimpse of a man in a dark hi-vis jacket sprinting up the yellow steel ladder toward the operator cabin seventy feet in the air.
"He’s got an escape line fixed to the main crane arm!" Graham realized suddenly, remembering the port’s emergency maintenance protocols. "If he reaches the top, he can zip down to a speedboat waiting in the harbor channel!"
"We can't hit him through this fog without risking shooting our own men!" Miller shouted over the noise.
"Kane can reach the secondary access ramp behind the control tower before he locks the hatch!" Graham called out.
Miller looked at Graham, then at the black dog trembling with raw power and purpose. "Go! But keep your head down!"
Graham unclipped the heavy leather leash from Kane’s collar.
"Kane! Seek!" Graham commanded, pointing up toward the steel staircase.
The Doberman exploded forward like a shot from a cannon. He vanished into the thick fog, his paws slapping the wet pavement, sprinting straight toward the base of the gantry crane.
Graham ran close behind, pulling a heavy tactical flashlight from his coat pocket.
High above, Marcus Vance reached the second platform of the crane ladder. He paused, looking down into the dark abyss of fog, pulling a second magazine from his belt to reload his pistol.
Suddenly, a black shadow leaped out of the mist onto the metal mesh platform.
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Kane didn't hesitate. He launched his entire weight straight at the shooter, his powerful jaws locking around Marcus Vance’s right forearm before the man could raise his weapon.
A high-pitched scream of agony echoed down from the metal tower, followed by the clatter of a heavy pistol falling through the steel steps and crashing onto the concrete seventy feet below.
